R
Roger M.
Guest
I'll be on my way in just a little over two weeks. I will put my pack together this weekend and begin walking with it to get it adjusted and work out the kinks.
I've decided that the only electronic device I will take is a camera. Nothing fancy but I do not want to be without one if that special moment comes up. After hours of shopping for a journal I decided to pick up a 97 cent one at WalMart this morning. Just something to jot some notes and thoughts in.
Over the past year I have been able to lose about twenty pounds and the muscles in my legs feel like steel bands. But my feet still bark at me from time to time. Bruised heel, arthritic toe, achy tendon ... oh well ... I'll walk fast when I can, take it slow when I have to, bring plenty of ibuprofen and push through. I'm going no matter what. If any of you happy pilgrims come upon an old guy with the initials "RMG" on his pack and sing out a greeting and he doesn't respond with the good nature and enthusiasm you would expect, he is probably hurting that day and just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.
I wish I knew why I was called to do this. Many reasons come into my head. But the stern reality is that I just know I have to go. Mid life/mortality reflection, mourning the loss of close family members the last ten years, rebirth of my Catholic faith, mental reset from years of technical minutia, ... I don't know.
The preparation for this walk has been a journey. I have become attached to the gentle rhythm of walking. Cold brisk January nights with sleet stinging my cheeks and hot August days that turn my body and clothes into a wet mess. Steep hills that make the heart pound and moments of cool welcomed shade provide simple but profound variations that put me in touch with a part myself that seems different and new but familiar at the same time.
I wish my wife was going with me. She simply has no interest in walking five hundred miles. It is odd that someone I have been married to for thirty five years could be so detached from something that has taken such a strong hold on me. I can only conclude that I am meant to go alone.
Let the pilgrimage and all that it brings begin!
I've decided that the only electronic device I will take is a camera. Nothing fancy but I do not want to be without one if that special moment comes up. After hours of shopping for a journal I decided to pick up a 97 cent one at WalMart this morning. Just something to jot some notes and thoughts in.
Over the past year I have been able to lose about twenty pounds and the muscles in my legs feel like steel bands. But my feet still bark at me from time to time. Bruised heel, arthritic toe, achy tendon ... oh well ... I'll walk fast when I can, take it slow when I have to, bring plenty of ibuprofen and push through. I'm going no matter what. If any of you happy pilgrims come upon an old guy with the initials "RMG" on his pack and sing out a greeting and he doesn't respond with the good nature and enthusiasm you would expect, he is probably hurting that day and just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.
I wish I knew why I was called to do this. Many reasons come into my head. But the stern reality is that I just know I have to go. Mid life/mortality reflection, mourning the loss of close family members the last ten years, rebirth of my Catholic faith, mental reset from years of technical minutia, ... I don't know.
The preparation for this walk has been a journey. I have become attached to the gentle rhythm of walking. Cold brisk January nights with sleet stinging my cheeks and hot August days that turn my body and clothes into a wet mess. Steep hills that make the heart pound and moments of cool welcomed shade provide simple but profound variations that put me in touch with a part myself that seems different and new but familiar at the same time.
I wish my wife was going with me. She simply has no interest in walking five hundred miles. It is odd that someone I have been married to for thirty five years could be so detached from something that has taken such a strong hold on me. I can only conclude that I am meant to go alone.
Let the pilgrimage and all that it brings begin!
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